My Fowley Bash
by Mary1
Summary: Agent Fowley undergoes some serious bashing in a fic that was written in a moment of fury :)


TITLE: My First Fowl Fiction  
AUTHOR: Mary   
NOTES: The beginning of this story bears extreme resemblances to a  
Simpsons episode...I know this, don't tell me about it. Nevertheless,   
it contains pain for The One We Hate Most. Be gentle in your   
criticisms, this is my first attempt at a Fowley bash. And my first  
attempt at fanfiction, actually.   
  
If you don't like violence, removal of limbs and other body parts, or   
you *like* Fowley (freak!), don't read this. I cannot be held   
responsible for any emotional distress caused. Mimi Rogers, or Mimi   
Rogers fans, go away as I make less than flattering comments about   
MR/DF's appearance...Oh, and I use the word 'suddenly' a lot. Anyone   
who can think of an alternative, I beseech you to tell me it.   
  
I'm *very* sorry if you share the injuries that Fowley obtains. It   
was impossible to please everyone whilst using injuries, especially   
when using so many *g*...just remember, you're not a cow, and she is.  
  
2 YEARS LATER...NOTES: Ohhhhhh what an embarrassment! I've corrected  
the grammar errors and the things that don't make sense. But it  
remains mostly in its original, awful, form. Aaaah the terrible   
writings of an angry thirteen year old...   
  
DISCLAIMER: No offence intended, characters don't belong to me, no   
profit made. Wow, my first fic and I'm tired of these already...   
  
RATING: G? Yeah, G. Maybe PG. I don't know.  
  
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My First Fowl Fiction  
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Scully was not amused. *She*, the revolting Agent Fowley, had been   
assigned to work with Mulder, another agent and herself.   
  
Fowley, on the other hand, was pleased to have the opportunity to be   
with 'her' Fox, with whom she had the delusion she would one day marry.   
They had been assigned to investige a series of mysterious events   
involving what appeared to be ceremonial mass suicides down a massive   
canyon. Scully knew she and Mulder could have solved the case alone,   
but Skinner had been insistent that four agents were sent. While Scully   
had her suspicions that it might be to bring her and Mulder a little   
more into the mainstream, and to improve relations between agents, but   
she was not in a position to comment.  
  
They gazed down into the ravine. To Scully, the temptation to push   
Fowley over the edge was verging on irresistible but, predictably, her   
common sense prevailed. Fowley crawled very close to the edge, and   
began to inspect the spot where the people had apparantly jumped from.   
Scully, the less experienced agent, could see that she was conducting   
the procedure entirely wrong, but refrained from telling her. Fowley's   
incompetance wasn't her problem. Mulder however, gently pointed out her   
errors.   
  
Scully seethed.  
  
Suddenly, Fowley lost her foothold. Horrified, Mulder immediately put   
out his arms to grab her, but was a moment too late. Fowley went   
tumbling down the edge, as Mulder let out a prolonged yell. Scully put   
a hand to her mouth, more to cover the understandable evil cackles she   
was producing than as a sign of horror.   
  
"Ohmygod, Scully, is she dead?" Mulder babbled in a sort of stupor.  
  
Scully gazed at the limp figure below. "I think so, Mulder.."  
  
Suddenly, Fowley weakly raised an arm.   
  
Damn it thought Scully.  
  
"She's alive!" Mulder gasped, "Scully, fetch an air ambulance or   
something!"  
  
Dejectedly, Scully ran for help, muttering angrily about Diana Fowley's   
seeming incapability to die.   
  
The ambulances arrived, and Diana lifted up, then bundled into one. As   
the ambulance drove away from the scene, however, it smacked into a tree,   
with a sickening noise, causing the back doors to fling open, as Diana's   
stretcher rolled out, taking Fowley crashing down the canyon.  
  
"Noooooooooooooooo!" wailed Mulder.  
  
Unfortunately for the rest of the world, the bandaging prevented   
Fowley from being flatlined, and she made it to the motorway (freeway)   
this time. Suddenly, the ambulance was cut in front of, and amid a   
flurry of honking horns, screeching tyres and shouts, a pile up was   
created. Another fleet of ambulances were sent out to inspect the damage.  
No serious damages were sustained. Except for one. Fowley. Here legs   
were smooshed and consequently amputated. They were later used as dog   
food, but the dogs, showing an incredible sixth sense, refused to eat it.   
Nevertheless, she refused, once again, to die.  
  
Once at the hospital, and all other wounds treated, it was arranged for   
artificial legs to be fitted on her. As soon as she left the operating   
theatre, an anxious Mulder pounced on a nurse. "How is she?"  
  
The nurse led Mulder to the door of Fowley's private room. Pausing before  
she opened the door, she stuttered a few words to him.  
  
"Uh...Mr Mulder, how shall I put this? Unfortunately, we are not super-  
human. Sometimes hospitals make mistakes..."  
  
"Yes..." Mulder asked warily.  
  
"Well, it's just that when you see Ms Fowley, you'll notice a few   
differences..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You see, the surgeon saw her face and thought that it was a case of   
complete plastic surgery to disguise that face of hers..."  
  
"But her face wasn't injured in the accident. Accidents."  
  
"I know that, Mr Mulder. But anyway, nobody objected, they all thought   
she kinda needed it too. And, as with all surgery, there was the chance   
of problems, complications..."  
  
"What are you trying to tell me?" Mulder demanded.  
  
"Ms Fowley has no ears, no nose, and her lips are the size of fine German  
sausages." the nurse mumbled.  
  
"What?!" Mulder screeched, pushing past the nurse and barging into Fowley's  
room.  
  
He stared at the face that was once recognisable as Fowley. Scully stood   
beside him.   
  
"How could this happen, Scully?"  
  
"Well, I admit it was a serious error, Mulder, but, if you look at her   
closely, you'll see it is actually an improvement..." Scully said.  
  
Mulder stared at Fowley. "I think I see what you mean, you know...her   
eyes....I don't know, they're less..."  
  
"Starey?" Scully suggested.  
  
"Mmmm, yeah, I think that could be it..."  
  
Suddenly, Fowley awoke. "Fox!" she murmured.  
  
"Hi, Diana. How are you feeling? Nurse, this patient has awoken."  
  
"What do the legs look like?" Fowley asked, concerned.  
  
"Uh...I can't be the judge of that, Diana. Ask the nurse."   
  
Fowley turned expectantly to the Nurse....  
  
  
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X   
  
Twenty later, and Fowley was still crying her eyes (or what was left   
of them) out.  
  
"Is this normal? Or healthy?" Mulder asked the nurse.  
  
"Well...it depends, but I have to say I am astonished at the   
amount of tears she's managing to produce." The Nurse said.  
  
"When will she be able to return home?"  
  
"Well, as she is refusing to have any more surgery, she can return   
tomorrow morning. Will you be able to look after her until she   
finds her feet - ah, bad choice of words - until she is able to learn   
to look after herself?"  
  
"Of course." Mulder turned to Fowley "Did you hear that, Diana? You can   
leave hospital tomorrow."  
  
Fowley turned to Mulder, nodded briefly, then began to cry again. The   
next day, Mulder took Fowley outside. He put her by the dumpsters   
outside of the hospital, and then went to get his car from the car park.   
When he returned, he suddenly let out a yell. Fowley was being lifted   
into the waste disposal truck, and was about to be mushed by the mincer.   
  
"No!" he shouted, "Stop! That's not garbage, that's a woman!" He was   
too late, however. Fowley was mush.   
  
THE END.   
  
Epilogue: Mulder did ask the garbage men how they mistook Fowley, which   
they returned with a nonchalant look. Scully could shed no light either,   
but thoughts did run through her head about resemblances to Oscar the   
Grouch. 


End file.
